The Grey Tower

Nine months ago

It was an ordinary morning for Weland, servant of the Tower. As usual, he woke up at before the first bell and practiced his daily exercises before breakfast. After dropping by the kitchens for a quick bite, he was sent off with a mop and bucket. He was working quietly down the central hall when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

"Hello. Who are you?”

He looked up at the woman, though his back did not completely straighten. His eyes searched the air blankly as a polite smile touched his lips.

"Hello. Nice to meet you,” he said.

"You… can you... How can you up mop without…”

“I just do what I’m told,” he said, lightly.

“That seems silly, if you can’t- ” she huffed. An awkward silence stretched between them as Weland waited for her next words. Then suddenly she blurted it out. "Why do they tell you to clean when you can't see?!”

He laughed, delighted at her observation. She had to have been watching him for some time, for his disability was not usually apparent at first glance.

“I’m not sure, though I seem to fare alright. Take a look around, did I miss a spot? No? Very well then. I guess I can keep my job."

She giggled. Then a small hand pressed into his.

"I'm Katrie. Of Brown Ajah, I suppose,” she said. She spoke with the precise tones of the Cairhienin, though she seemed much taller than most people of that nation. "Who are you?”

He bowed over her hand, lips lightly brushing her skin. “Weland, a simple servant. At your service, Aes Sedai.”

"Are you new? I have never seen you before.”

"I suppose you can say I'm new. But the Tower is a large place. I've never seen you before either.”

She clapped her hand over her mouth, but couldn’t help but to emit a little snort. Weland grinned.

And so began a strange friendship. Katrie Sedai was a kind and bright soul; despite his travels, Emmond thought that he had never met anyone quite like her. He knew things about her, of course, little facts that he had picked up from the rumor mill. That she was the daughter of the former Keeper of Chronicles. That she had ran away as an Accepted and came back hanging on the arm of Dakson Torellion. That she was quite an unorthodox Brown sister and that she was lethal in hand-to-hand combat. But the conversations between Katrie Sedai and the servant Weland never touched upon these subjects.

Instead, they spoke of lighter, happier things. He listened with rapt, patient attention as she chattered excitedly about her experiments. And she suggested helpful solutions when he spoke of the struggles he faced without his sight. They shared parts of their daily lives - but nothing more. If the conversation began to veer towards discussion of the past, Weland would carefully steer it back on course. And Katrie, perhaps sensing his reluctance, graciously allowed it.

For nine months, they ran into each other at odd little moments, never with much consistency. Then one day, everything changed.
----- Four days after the novice/soldier bombing

Emmond didn’t leave the infirmary until hours after the last bell. Even then, he didn’t return to the servant quarters. Instead, he wandered the halls of the Tower. Elia had masked the bond again. He expected that she was busy with Supreme Council business. It seemed that killing Liliandra had shaken things up a bit. He wondered who would replace her.

He wanted to return to the infirmary, but it would not be wise to associate himself too closely with the Darrows. Even if he could still hear the little one's cries ringing in his ears. Even if his fingers still remembered the softness of her skin. Even if he longed to return to her room and set up guard against anything that might come along. Silly thoughts, as Ravak had certainly had that base covered. He had held babies before, yet none had affected him so strongly. It made no sense, as he had no desire for children. He wondered if he held some lingering affection for Mirin, and then quickly brushed that thought aside. She no longer mattered.

Abruptly, he found himself standing stock still in front of a door. His fingers ran across the engraved bronze plate tacked on the wall and was surprised at what he found. Why had he come here? They hardly knew each other.

He shook his head and sighed. Then he knocked. When it opened, he bowed.

“Katrie Sedai,” he said. “Do you have time? I need to talk to you. Please, it’s important.”

“Weland? Of course! What's on your mind?”

She led him to a chair. He heard her rummaging around, and then she pressed a porcelain cup into his hands. The tea had an herbal scent.

For a long time he didn’t know where to start. To his surprise, she waited patiently instead of leaping in with her usual inquisitiveness, for which he was very grateful. He held the teacup gingerly, too polite to set it down though he had no intention of drinking. Finally, he decided to begin at the beginning.

His voice was low, and quiet. “My name is Emmond Salere. I was born in a small mining town in the Mountains of Mist..."
----- "My father worked in the mines. My mother was a healer. Not a Wisdom, but a healer. People called her a witch, but honestly I don’t remember much about her. She died giving birth to my sister. A few years later, my father also died. A mining accident, they said. I was ten.”

Emmond took a deep breath. He seemed a completely different man. His expression was grim and his shoulders tensed. Dark eyes flickered with uncharacteristic wariness. Even the way he spoke changed. His words hinted at more education than a servant normally received.

“My sister and I were sent to Caemlyn. Two children, alone, to travel thousands of miles. I’m sure that you can imagine how well the journey went. We traveled for months and finally managed to reach Caemlyn. Perhaps not quite safe or sound, but we made it together. We were placed in an orphanage. They tried to separate us, and so we ran away and lived on the streets. A few years later, Herah… my sister…. died."

He paused there for a moment. He wanted to skim over most of the unpleasant details of his life, but this one seemed somehow important.

“It was my fault,” he whispered. “It was an accident. I was too proud, too stupid, too greedy… I… grasped at dreams, and forgot that even dreams have a price.”

He waved his hand and continued. “Anyways. Many years passed. I made a living in Caemlyn. And that’s where Eisel Asha'man found me. He brought me here to the Tower, where I enrolled as a soldier. Seven years later, I became Emmond Asha’man of the Grey Ajah. That was forty-four… almost forty-five years ago. Clearly that is not who I am anymore.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“I’m not telling you this to rouse your pity,” he said, lightly. “I’m telling you this because I can’t… I can’t trust myself anymore. The past year has been exceedingly difficult. I am Weland, now, a simple servant of the Tower. There is no longer a place for Emmond Salere. And that frightens me, Katrie Sedai. There are many ways to die, and not all of them involve stopping the heart.

“I hope that you can help me.” He smiled wryly. “I’m not sure what you could do, but my admiration for you runs deep. Somehow, I feel that speaking with you may lead me to some answers.”

Light!

Every word from Weland’s - Emmond’s! - mouth plunked through the still surface of her mind like tossed stones. Rippling rings of movement raced outwards only to rebound against the confines of her skull, colliding and distorting into one another until all coherent thought was erased.

Light Light Light!!

Katrie floundered for words and when none came, she was reduced to gaping gaped openly at Wel - Emmond. Welmmond? Perplexed, incredulous, stunned... her emotions churned and frothed, the bond sharpening with concern as Dax’s full focus turned to her. The teacup in front of her was forgotten. Her fingers curled into the plush cushioning of her armchair and she shifted backwards, the sound of silk sliding over lace as loud as a shout. She had heard of Emmond Salere. There were rumours that surrounded his sudden departure, some innocuous and pleasant, others... not so much. But there were always rumours and idle speculation swirling about... Oh why hadn’t she paid more attention?

The pretty Cairhienin eyed the man across from her warily; he had always been kind to her. And well... he was blind... and... he... he looked sad... Her mouth skewed a little as her head tilted to the side, her look tentative. White teeth flashed in stark contrast to the rich warmth of her skin as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“I’m... sorry about your sister,” the Aes Sedai finally said, her voice quiet and unusually subdued. “I- I don’t understand why... why you just told me all of this. I don’t know how to help you... I... I don’t have any idea how to help you... I don’t even know how to help myself.”

Katrie shook her head, making a helpless gesture with her hands, tears abruptly coming to her eyes.

“First it was the Seanchan. And then it was... what, an attack? An inside job? Black Ajah? I should care about it... but I don’t. Not like everyone thinks I should. I lost my Mama and it...” her voice wavered and she swallowed hard. There was a baby! Muscles and Mirin! The slender woman took a breath. She was not going to cry in front of Emmond.

“Everything reminds me of Mama... in the Tower and it hurts. I just want to get away. I miss the open road. I want to see the ocean. I just want to see the ocean and go traveling with Dax and -” she bit through her words abruptly and shook her head, drawing in another sharp breath in a desperate attempt to regain some of her composure. She was babbling.

“...my admiration for you runs deep.” Emmond had said.

Why? she wanted to ask him, but the question remained lodged in her throat. What could she have possibly done to merit his admiration?

The silence was uncomfortable and, desperate to break it, Katrie leaned forward and blurted out: “What happened to you? How... how did you go from Asha’man Emmond Salere to Tower Servant Weland?” Her head tilted to the side once again, a glimmer of her insatiable curiosity sparking to life. If he was once an Asha’man, then... it would stand to reason that he’d have had use of his eyesight. You had to see to learn the weaves. And you had to see what you were channeling at to... well, channel at it. “Does it have something to do with your blindness??”

Emmond let out the breath that he didn't even know he had been holding. He was glad that she had not responded in horror or ordered him to leave. But as she spoke, he could tell that she was troubled. Her voice trembled and she could hardly make out her words. His forehead crinkled with concern.

His hand reached forward intending to comfort her before he realized that, unlike Elia, he could not sense her presence and could not find her hand. He tried to stand, but halfway up his leg knocked against the coffee table and he gasped, clutching his leg and dropping back down into the cushioned chair. His breath hissed between his teeth. Frustration boiled for a brief moment - he hated helplessness - and just as quickly, calm returned once again. His face smoothed as if nothing had ever happened.

She mentioned the ocean. As always, the thought summoned old memories. He had been in love once, with a Windfinder named Lythie. He remembered the beautiful, wild waves of her hair, the taste of salt upon her lips, and her voice whispering in his ear.
----- "It feels like a storm is coming," said Lythie. Her brow knotted with worry.

Emmond curled his body around hers. A finger traced the curve of her jaw.

"Together we can weather any storm," he said, softly.

She turned dark eyes to meet his. He saw something within them that caused his heart to stir uneasily.

"You are not a man who is refused often," she said. "But I am afraid that I cannot give you what you want from me."

He smiled thinly. "And what do you think I want, Lythie?"

"My people are tied to the ocean. Just like you, Emmond, are tied to the Tower." Her fingers twisted together strands of his hair. "You want me, all of me, and that I cannot give you. You will return to your Tower one day. And I will remain."
----- Emmond shook away the memory and focused on answering her question.

"I was blinded during the Seanchan attack," he said. "A building collapsed, I hit my head and blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was in the infirmary. They said I had been buried in rubble for nearly a whole day and... I could not see. A few weeks after that, there was a... misunderstanding. Sensitive Ajah business that I'd like to avoid discussing - I hope you understand. I was gentled, and then Healed. Not to full strength, though."

He took a deep breath and seized the Power to weave a simple globe of light. One of the first weaves taught to beginners. Though he could not see, he sensed the weakness of the flows and knew that the light flickered.

His voice became strained with effort. "This is as much as I can do now," he said. He held on for a moment longer, reluctant to leave the furious ecstasy of the Power - then he allowed saidin to drain away and settled back in his chair. His breath came quickly as if he had just jogged a mile.

"A silly misunderstanding," he said, flatly. "For which I paid a hefty price. I am hardly strong enough to make Dedicated now, much less serve as a full Asha'man."

His thoughts fled from thinking too much on it. He felt anger rising as it always did when he thought of the events on Caralain Grass. And as always, he pushed it down, trapping it deeply, hiding it until the next time it bubbled to the surface. His gentling was unforgiven. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Not until the right opportunity came along. Emmond was very good at biding his time.

He spoke again.

"Katrie Sedai, please forgive my questions if they are impertinent. But I wonder: if you want to go, then what's stopping you? See, I chose to join the Grey for a reason. They travel perhaps more than any other Ajah. And I wanted to wander the world and see its sights. Which I did, for many, many years. But I always returned. It is why I am still here, Katrie Sedai, and why I still serve the Tower. Once the Tower has made its mark on you, it never truly lets you go.

"If you're running from something, the Tower will pull you back. But go see the ocean if you want and don't let anything stop you. I will never see the ocean again, Katrie Sedai. I say that without sorrow, because I prefer to think of opportunities, not regrets. And I am grateful that I saw it when I had the chance. So you should, too."

He paused for a moment, then his expression abruptly softened.

"I... am also sorry. About your mother's death," he said. Then he waited, knowing that mere words could not wash away the pain of loss.

Something in the avalanche of words that poured from Emmond’s mouth didn’t make sense, but the Katrie was too dumbfounded to properly sort through the information just yet. Not even the fact that he had struck his leg against the table that separated them roused her. The after image of the small ball of light was burned into the space behind her eyes.

“Thank you,” she answered mechanically at the offer of condolence about her mama. She was never entirely sure what to say in response, as if words alone could properly convey her grief. And she didn’t really want to speak about her plans with Dax... but she’d brought it up and it wasn’t as if Emmond was telling her something she didn’t already know.

“That’s the plan,” she sighed, “to see the ocean, I mean. To go traveling. It’s kind of why I picked Brown, to learn about things and maybe get to see all the places I read about in my books. What’s stopping us currently is the smoldering hole where the Novice and Soldier quarters used to be.” That came out far more sharply and resentful than she had intended and her arms wrapped around her body, as if she was protecting herself.

She swallowed back a sob and reached for the teacup she had set down in front of her. The contents were tepid at best, but she swallowed it all down in a gulp. Breathe, a small voice reminded her, silence descending upon them as she spent the next moments doing just that. She had to breathe. Her gaze went around the room, Katrie taking comfort in the space and furnishings that she and Dax shared. Most of it was standard fare... a large armoire, closets and drawers full of precisely hung dresses and neatly folded shirts and breeches, a large desk strewn with notes, some matching end tables and one of the walls completely lined bookshelves filled with leather bound books.

(There was also the matter of the dresses piled at the base of the armoire that was not quite so standard fare. Every bit of the the sheer lace and translucent silk that comprised of that pile had been haphazardly ripped or torn, a spectacular few from neckline to skirts. No fewer than seven bodices sported snapped laces... but, really, Emmond didn’t need to know about that.)

There was one thing, above all others, that she cherished the most, enough to place a protective weave and ward over it: a sturdy curio case, that dominated the wall closest to the door that led to her private rooms. The hand carved wood supports were encased in flawless panels of glass. That was where her small little bottles were meant to go, each one filled with water, or soil, or... flowers... something from each new place that she visited, preferably in her Gaidin’s company.

Katrie gave herself a mental shake and stared at the former Asha’man, forcefully reordering her thoughts. Her head tilted to the side, white teeth worrying at the curve of her bottom lip. Sable orbs studied the once Asha’man, voice tentative. “You said that a misunderstanding had you... gentled, then Healed again... but if your Ajah knew... if it was a mistake, surely you don’t have to spend the rest of your time as a servant? That seems cruel and not at all fair...” her voice trailed off hesitantly, the slender woman unable to quell the horror that bubbled up and made her stomach turn.

If someone accidentally Stilled her... she would lose Dax...! Oh... Light... Even if she was Healed right afterwards... Light, Light, Light! Her hand flew up, clapping over her mouth as she struggled not to be sick, panic and fear washing over her in an overwhelming wave. Katrie shoved all that aside, stretching desperately through the bond, clinging onto the golden warmth that was her husband’s presence through their shared awareness.

Long, awkward minutes passed before she felt reassured enough to speak, but she didn’t let go of her Warder, her mind wrapped inextricably together with his. The Aes Sedai pulled in a breath and then leaned forward, smooth brow furrowing. “I’ve never heard of a Gentling done outside of the Hall, but... if this person did what you say they did to you, have they been sent for penance? Even it being an accident, I can’t imagine that the pronouncement would be very lenient...”

Her mouth skewed to the side. What penance could possibly suffice for ruining a man’s life?